


Open One's Hands

by sharkie335



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bondage, Fisting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-20
Updated: 2010-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 01:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you sure you want this?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Open One's Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a quote from Taisen Deshimaru: "To receive everything, one must open one's hands and give." Written for svmadelyn's Kink and Cliche multifandom challenge. The prompt was fisting!

Rodney looks over John, naked and trembling, spread out for his pleasure. His hands are bound to the headboard, his ankles unbound but spread wide. His eyes are closed, his face open in a way that Rodney only sees here, when John is lost in the moment.

Checking his wrists one more time, Rodney makes sure that the rope binding him is tight enough without cutting off his circulation. From there, he traces a line down the side of John's face, from temple to chin. "Open your eyes, John," he says softly, his voice no less commanding for its lack of volume.

John's eyes open, blinking at him. His pupils are blown wide, only a narrow strip of hazel visible around them. "Mm, hmm?" he says, sounding drugged. It's a good thing that Rodney has heard it before, knows that John gets like this when he's tied and bound, when he knows that Rodney is going to make him fly.

"Focus, John." His voice is sharper, trying to pull John out of his headspace for just a moment. John blinks again, but his eyes seem a little more aware. "Are you tracking?" John nods, pulling in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Reassured somewhat, Rodney touches his face again. "Are you sure you want this?"

The nod that John gives him is slow, lazy, but no less certain for that. "Please, Rodney. I want it so badly," he says, voice soft and a little nervous, not that Rodney can blame him for that.

"Okay," he says. John asks for so little, that when he specifically tells Rodney a fantasy, Rodney does everything in his power to make it happen. John deserves that much. Besides, it's usually so hot that he ends up going off like a rocket.

Taking one of the pillows from the head of the bed, he shoves it under John's hips, lifting them higher. Then he settles himself between John's legs and starts to touch.

At first, it's completely non-sexual - face, hands, knees, ankles. It doesn't matter, though, because John is arching into each touch as if it's the last one he'll ever get. Rodney can't help the way that his heart breaks a little - John is so touch starved it _hurts_. Six months of being together isn't enough to undo a lifetime of denial and repression.

John's eyes flutter and close as he sinks back into his headspace, and Rodney shifts slightly, adding more erotic touching into the mix. He trails his fingers up John's inner thigh, dances them over his nipples, dips them in his mouth. The only part of John's body that he doesn't touch is his groin, ignoring the hard cock that is standing straight and tall.

Moaning softly, John lifts his hips, mutely begging for the touch that Rodney is denying him. Rodney is tempted, so tempted to forget the plan, and just suck John's cock into his mouth, drink him down. He knows that John would never say anything if he did, but he'd be disappointed, and Rodney hates to disappoint him.

Instead, he reaches across John's hip and picks up the lube. It's thicker than what they usually use, and Rodney slowly squeezes some onto his hand, using his thumb to spread it across his fingers. Gently, he traces a path with his slick fingers from John's balls back to his hole, circling it slowly. John's breath catches and holds, until Rodney's finger breaches him, sliding into his heat.

John makes a small sound, almost a plea, and his hips come up. Rodney can't help but smile. There is no way that he's rushing this, not at all. Instead, he rests his left hand on John's lower belly, pressing softly. "Still, John." John makes another sound, but his hips come to a trembling stop.

Rodney has a mental countdown of about how long it takes John to lose track of time when he's like this, and even though he's taking one finger easily, Rodney's stubborn enough to refuse to add more until John hits that point. Only when John is panting into each touch, making the soft sounds that tell Rodney he's lost, does he slides a second finger inside him.

John's taking two fingers easily, not that that's really a surprise. Regular sex makes it easier - makes all sorts of things easier. Rodney scissors his fingers slowly, stretching John's entrance gently. John's breathing has evened out and slowed, his chest rising smoothly with each breath. It's quiet in the room other than the sounds of them breathing, the slick sounds of Rodney fingering John, but Rodney isn't tempted to talk. He's as much lost as John is, watching his fingers slide into John's ass.

When he adds a third finger, the stretch becomes more noticeable, and John makes another sound, this one questioning. "That's three, John. Does it feel good? Do you want me to stop? All you have to do is tell me."

John licks his lips, a quick in and out motion of his tongue, and then says in a rush, "No - I mean, yes. I mean, yes it feels good. No, don't stop." John's hands are clenching on each other, and his breathing is speeding up, so Rodney presses more firmly on his belly. The pressure calms John, makes him relax, and Rodney nods to himself.

"Don't worry, John. I'm going to give you as much as you can take. I'm not stopping unless you tell me to." His pinky finger is brushing against John's perineum on every push in, catching the rim of his hole and teasing him with the possibility. He waits till John is calm again, and then slowly slides his fingers all the way out.

There's no surprise when John objects, but there's no such thing as too much lube with what they're getting ready to do, so even as Rodney reassures John that he's not done, he's applying another coat of lube, this time slicking his whole hand thickly. Folding his fingers together, he presses the tips of them against John's entrance. "Deep breath," he says, and waits till John is releasing it to press them in.

The deep press takes minutes instead of seconds, as Rodney carefully eases the John past his knuckles to where his hand starts to widen into his palm. "You're beautiful, John," he whispers as John tosses his head, trying to breathe through the stretch. "You're doing so well..."

"R-Rodney?" John manages to get out.

"I'm here, John. How are you feeling?" As slowly as he pressed in, he starts to pull his hand back out, spreading his fingers slightly so that John continues to be stretched.

"So - so good. So _full_ ," John says, voice practically a moan.

Rodney chuckles a little. "Not as full as you're going to be." This time he's answered by a groan, and John pressing down into his hand. "That's it, John. Let me fill you up. You just breathe."

And then they're breathing practically in sync, each inhalation deep, each exhale draining more tension away even as Rodney presses a little deeper, a little faster. When he's sliding in as easily as he was with three fingers, he says, "Okay, John. I'm adding my thumb now. Deep breath." And as John forces himself to breathe even deeper, Rodney pulls out, refolds his hand, and starts to slide back in.

When John whimpers, he freezes. "John?"

"Don- don't stop," John says, hands rhythmically opening and closing. "Please - I want this."

Rodney bites his lip and thinks. He doesn't want to hurt John - pain isn't part of what they do - but he wants to give John as much as he can. Deciding that he has to trust John to know what he can take, he starts pressing again, watching as his hand slowly sinks into John. When they pass the widest part of Rodney's hand, John's eyes fly open and he takes a sudden breath.

Letting the rest of his hand slide in, he looks John in the face. His eyes are wild, but his face looks calm, even peaceful. "You did it, John, you've got my whole hand inside you." John clenches down tight around Rodney's wrist, and then releases, whispering something too soft for Rodney to hear. "What?"

"Feels... there aren't any words for how it feels," John says, and Rodney has to kiss him, leaning forward and brushing his lips over John's chest.

Sitting back up, he says, "Okay, I'm going to move a little now." He waits for John's nod, and then slowly, carefully, twists his hand as he presses a little deeper. John moans, and then jumps as if he's been shocked. "John?"

"Really, really intense," he manages, and Rodney has to nod. He can only imagine.

When he'd been working his hand inside John, John's erection had faded a little, but now it's back full force. He's hard, and the tip of his cock is wet with precome. As he continues to work his hand inside John, trying to put as much pressure on his prostate as he can, he says, "You can come whenever you're ready."

Then he leans forward and takes John's cock into his mouth, licking and sucking it, focusing on the head. John groans, and his hips flex slightly. He's muttering something that Rodney can only catch the edge of, about how close he is. Rodney doesn't need to hear that, because he can feel it, taste it.

Suddenly, John clenches down around his wrist even as he fills Rodney's mouth with his come. Rodney swallows the bitter fluid, and continues to suck until John whines, high and tight in his chest. Letting his cock slide out of his mouth with a soft _pop_ , he sits back up.

John looks dazed and lost, and Rodney wants - no, needs - to be up there holding him, so as gently as he can, he slips his hand free of John's ass. He's wiping his hand down with a towel even as he clambers over John's leg and up his body, wrapping him up in Rodney's arms and holding him tight as John shivers and shakes. If there are tears, Rodney will never say, even to himself.

As John starts to calm, Rodney starts working on the knots tying his wrists to the headboard one handed. Thankfully, he's got practice at this, and he manages to get them undone in only a few moments. As soon as John has his hands loose, he wraps his arms around Rodney and clings tightly.

Rodney whispers nonsense into John's hair as he pets and strokes him; trying to calm him, bring him back to center.

Gradually, John lets up on the deathgrip he's got on Rodney, and one of his hands slides down Rodney's stomach towards his groin. Rodney's hard, but he won't put any more stress on John by expecting him to do anything about it. Instead, he stops John's hand. "Just... hold me, and yes, I'm aware I sound like a fourteen year old girl."

John lifts his head, meeting his eyes, and what Rodney sees there is so unexpected that it hits him like a blow to the chest. He'd never doubted that John cared for him, but the look of love in his eyes is so intense, that there's no question.

This time, when John slides his hand down to Rodney's cock, he lets him. As those fingers curl around his dick and starts to move, he closes his eyes and thinks about what John looked like on his arm. It only takes moments, and then he's coming over John's hand.

Rodney hands over the towel, allowing John to wipe off his hand, and then they lie still. Rodney's drifting in a haze, so he startles when John speaks. "Thank you."

Turning on his side, Rodney touches John's face softly. "You're welcome."


End file.
